


A little luck

by Mersheeple



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Pre-Relationship, Pre-smut, Strip Poker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:20:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29411115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mersheeple/pseuds/Mersheeple
Summary: Apprentice Granger had listened very carefully at the beginning of his class. She had made quite sure of his wording. And now he seemed to want to renege on the offer he had made. So she would have to play him at...well, not his own game...but A game...
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 8
Kudos: 102





	A little luck

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LunaP999](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaP999/gifts).



> Thank you for the prompt lovely. I'm sorry I couldn't quite get to the smut...

She glared at him over the table, her Potions Master smirking smugly, and cursed under her breath again. The man was impossible. She held her hand out.

“My Draught of Living Death was perfect and you know it!” She had been the only person in the class that had successfully brewed the Draught. The fact that she was his Apprentice should not change anything. She had won fair and square. The prize was hers.

“Miss Granger, the challenge was set for the students, not for you. None of those dunderheads managed to brew the Draught to my standards at all. The Felix Felicis is mine.” He smirked at her and she wanted to kiss that look right off his face. Whoops. Slap. Yes, that was the word she was thinking. She wanted to slap those well-defined cheekbones.

“You didn’t specify that at the beginning of the lesson, Master Snape. You merely stated that the potion would be given to anyone who was able to brew a functioning Draught of Living Death. Anyone. Not any student.” Hermione couldn’t help but feel smug as she very clearly enunciated exactly what he had said. His brow lowered fractionally and he pursed his lips slightly, a sure sign he was annoyed with himself, rather than with her. His eyes glittered momentarily and then went blank. She knew she wouldn’t like his next statement and braced herself for the potential tirade.

“I’ll play you for it. Any card game you like.” They had been playing various card games since her Apprenticeship had started a year ago. Usually it was to avoid cleaning cauldrons, or gathering some of the more revolting ingredients. Usually it was a game of Cribbage or Euchre, something that would pass the time intellectually as well as being fun. But she had another string to her bow that he had never known and would never expect. A game she had learned on her father’s knee when he and the men from his university classes had met up weekly.

“Texas Hold’em.” She spoke clearly and raised her eyebrow in challenge. She noticed the slow blink of surprise, the glitter of his eyes, the spark of interest that flared there and then was pushed down behind his Occlumency shields. Oh yes, she knew all his tells. This would be easy.

“I only ever play strip poker.” His voice had no inflection and he obviously assumed she would refuse point blank. If he assumed that, though, he did not know her as well as he thought he did. He raised an eyebrow in challenge and she smiled softly at him.

“Fine. Tonight? After dinner?” He nodded at her and she smiled softly, heading to her room to prepare for the evening ahead. If she was going to play strip poker, she was going to have to make sure that what she was wearing was appropriate. She would skip dinner, taking some time to pamper herself in preparation for what could be a very interesting evening.

She arrived at his door an hour after dinner finished. It had taken all her strength not to arrive two minutes after dinner finished. She held her deck of cards in her hand and took a breath before knocking lightly.

“Enter.” There was no bark, no bite to his words. His wards must have registered that it was her waiting outside. His magic felt like a caress as she pushed the door open and stepped inside, unable to stop the slight shiver that caused her skin to prickle with awareness. She smiled, somewhat nervously, and held the cards up.

“Ready for our game Severus?” After hours, she had been given permission to use his first name as long as they were in his quarters.

“Of course, Hermione. Any rules?” He smirked at her as he practically purred her name. His voice was like molten chocolate and she was glad her robes would cover her already peaking nipples from his view. At least, for now.

“Belts and accessories do not count as a clothing item. Shoes and socks are one item each pair. No wild cards, Ace is high. Folding counts as a loss. A draw, as unlikely as it may be, means we both lose an item of clothing. Anything you want to add?” She smiled at him, letting him add anything he wanted.

“I think that may be most things covered. The potion goes to the person who still has clothes on or who has the most clothes on after ten rounds. Does that sound fair?” Hermione counted her items of clothing in her head silently before nodding slowly. She would have to be careful if her plan was going to work. She sat in the seat she had claimed the first night they had started playing cards, took a breath and began to shuffle the simple deck. She handed it to Severus, as she always did, and he took his turn at shuffling the cards. She watched his hands and felt that familiar tingle run through her as she watched his long dextrous fingers. They cut the cards and he raised an eyebrow as she gestured for him to deal first.

She glanced briefly at her cards and noticed that she had nothing useful in her hand. Off-suited and too far apart for a run, she knew the cards were among the worst she could have. Still, his raised eyebrow spurred her on and she waited for the Flop. He dealt the cards, turning them over with a practiced sweep that implied magic but was just sleight of hand. The cards did not help her at all and she watched as he burned a card, played the Turn, burned another, and played the River. She sighed slightly as he smirked at the Turn, flipping his cards.

“Pair of Jacks.” He smirked at her and she stood calmly, flipping her Ace High hand, and bending over to undo her heels. Of course, she could have stayed seated but that would not have played into her plan. She heard him suck in a breath as she bent at the waist, thankful once again for her yoga classes that her Mother had always insisted she go to during the school holidays. The heels dropped her height by two inches but she knew that it would also make sure she fit nicely under his chin. She turned back around, noticing he seemed to be looking exactly where her arse had been. She smirked, raising an eyebrow and he coughed quietly, a slight stain of pink on his cheeks. He handed her the cards again and she shuffled and dealt them a new hand each. The game continued.

She lost the next round. She sighed, deciding to try playing her best game as she removed her robe silently, her blouse tight enough that he could, if he looked close enough, see the lace of her bra. A breath through his nose made her realise that possibly he might find that distracting.

She won the next three rounds and watched with anticipation as he removed his shoes, then his socks and then finally his robe. She did not want to admit that she was disappointed but he seemed to have so many layers and did not seem as distracted as she had hoped until he won their sixth game and she removed her top. Her bra, deep blue lace that set off the colour of her skin and seemed to make it glow, proceeded to distract him for just one round when she finally watched him remove his frock coat, slowly, undoing one button at a time and starting with his cuffs. She felt like she was nearly panting when he was wearing only his crisp white shirt, charcoal grey cravat, and his dark trousers. He raised his eyebrow at her response time being slow as she collected the cards to shuffle up and deal. She felt the heat in her face reach her ears and knew she was blushing. Again.

Her cards were awful and she wondered if she should just throw her cards in, removing an item of clothing. His mouth twitched slightly and she knew he had good cards. With a grimace, she tossed her cards onto the table, stood up and shimmied out of her skirt. She heard him splutter and smirked before she turned around. The matching briefs and the pair of hold-up stockings had been a good choice. Now if only she could win the next two rounds, they would probably be on an even footing. It wasn’t an outright win but she would still see him in, hopefully, his underwear. Or at least, maybe he would see her as more than just his Apprentice.

“Two more rounds I think Severus?” Hermione spoke softly and he coughed slightly, nodding as he shuffled the cards and dealt them. She glanced briefly at her cards. Pocket Aces. She might have a chance this time. She wanted to laugh but knew to keep her reactions entirely passive. He dealt the flop and she noticed his eyes flare slightly. Ah. So he had one of the three cards in his hand. More likely than not a Jack or a ten. The three was less likely, though still possible. He burned a card and then flipped over the Turn. An Ace. She had trips. It was the best hand she had had all night. He had no reaction as he burned the last card before flipping over the River slightly triumphantly. A 3 stared back at her and she could barely hold in her reaction as he threw down his cards victoriously.

“Trips, Threes.” He gave her a little smirk as he stared directly at her bra, even though technically she could remove her stockings. If she had lost. Which she had not.

“Full House. Aces over Threes.” She said nothing more as she picked up the cards to shuffle them calmly. He stood from the table, breathing heavily through his nose as he waved his hand negligently in front of his shirt. The cravat and shirt opened, revealing his lightly furred chest, the pink scars on his neck still shiny like new skin, the white scars on his abdomen not hidden from her view as she had expected. She said nothing, waving her own hand to dispel the glamours covering her own scars. If he wasn’t going to hide his, then she would not hide hers. He glanced at her chest again, seeing the large scar between her breasts from the attack at the Ministry. Most of her other scars were hidden by the table but she silently turned her arm over to show him the childish letters carved that day at Malfoy Manor. He nodded slightly, returning to sit across from her.

“I have two items left Hermione. How many scraps do you have left?”

“Three. If you win, it’s a draw. If you lose, I win the Felix Felicis.” Hermione nodded at him as she carefully dealt their hole cards for what was going to be their last round.

“If it’s a draw, I think the brewer of the potion should win.” Severus smirked at her and she refused to be baited, dealing the flop without even glancing at her cards. He raised an eyebrow at her refusal to capitulate to his request. She burned the next card and played the Turn. She broke eye contact with him, looking down at the spread before her. She hoped that she had something decent to add to the scattered cards in front of her. The four of clubs, eight of diamonds, three of spades and Ace of hearts stared back at her. A full mix of suits. Nothing particularly useful. She burned one last card and turned over the River. Three of hearts. A guaranteed pair for either of them. She watched as he turned over his hole cards.

“Two pair, eights over threes.” He smiled at her, just a slight upwards quirk of his lips and she looked down staring at his cards. With a slight sight, she finally looked at her cards. She blinked, surprised, and looked again. Staring back at her was the three of diamonds and the three of clubs. She said nothing, turning her cards over and looked up at Severus. He looked down and she knew the moment he realised she had won. He stood, slowly, and turned away from her. His back was criss-crossed with scars and she desperately wanted to touch him. She watched him take the vial from his trouser pocket and place it carefully on the table they had been playing at. And then she waited as he undid the buttons of his fly, sliding the trousers over narrow hips that flared slightly from his waist. They dropped to his ankles and he stepped out of them, kicking them away from his feet. He turned to where she had been sitting and noticed her standing watching him. He picked up the vial and held it out to her.

“You win, Hermione, one vial of Felix Felicis.” He twitched a half-smile at her and she reached for it, stepping towards him as she pushed the vial gently into his chest, her hand finally coming into contact with his skin. She traced her fingers over his chest for two seconds and stepped away as she spoke softly.

“I was hoping to use it to somehow get you naked in front of me. I think, now, it feels like that would be taking advantage.” She wrapped her arms around her waist and took a breath calmly. She heard him moving towards her and steeled herself for the rejection she knew was coming. His hand rested lightly on her shoulder and she breathed out slowly as he stepped forward. She could feel him all along her body, the hard planes of his chest against her spine and…was that…was he hard? He held her still, slowly tracing his fingers around her shoulder and then down her arm. He linked his fingers with hers, still not saying anything. He bent down and kissed the side of her neck very gently and then moved to nibble her ear.

“You could have asked. You could have said something. You’re supposed to be a brave little Gryffindor.” She sucked in a breath, the sound of his voice melting her insides and making her legs tremble as she leaned back slightly.

“I’m asking now. Severus, do I need the Felix Felicis to get lucky?”


End file.
